tables turned
by 101weirdways
Summary: Just a shirt story to prove there is always two sides to a story. A Merlin based fic hope u like ( :


**Hello and welcome to my quite strange and Geeky world!**

 **This is only going to be a story with a few chapters as I have to concentrate on getting my main story done.**

 **I apologise for any random mistakes or typos I make, I am definitely not the best writer in the world...**

 **Anyway hope you enjoy this story and please review so I can Improve.**

 **thanks!**

 **TABLES TURNED**

by 101weirdways

 **Chapter one**

I was running. Running so fast that even the wind couldn't catch me, But these men on horseback were still gaining more and more speed. They were faster than the wind... faster and 10 times more intimidating.

I darted into the bushes were I thought they could not follow me, my legs in pain and lungs bursting. Branches scraped against my face, ripping my pale skin so scarlet blood dribbled down my chin and stained my shirt.

I glanced behind me, only to see the patronising scene of great, angry soldiers coming at me now on foot, flailing their sharp swords. Although this scared me out of my wits, the simple boost of adrenaline revved me forwards, darting me in and out of the tight gaps between tree trunks like the white rapids of a river.

The uneven ground made it near impossible to run at the speed I needed; slimy, moss covered rocks making me skid. I was bounding over roots and weeds, positioned like bear traps over the ground. My breath was racing and my mouth was intoxicated with the most sickly liquid you will ever taste.

I didn't care, all I knew was that I had to keep running.

 **o~O~o**

"Erila! Don't do that!" He whined. I scare him all the time, but it's really his own fault for being so gullible. Giggling at my brothers comical angry face( head low and mouth in a tight pout) I slid back behind my tree, which had a thick trunk and pale leaves and was just on the edge of our camp. It had a conveniently wide body and a broad knob like a seat which made it a fairly comfortable place to sit and look at activity going on around me.

Marco followed me round and poked his nose into what I was doing, as he often did.

"what are you making?" he asked innocently.

I was holding my little knife in one hand along with a thick stick I had found in the other. With practised delicacy, which I was very proud of, I carefully carved patterns into the body of the stick until it was, if I may say so, beautifully elaborate.

"something." I answered, half a world away, shaping one end into a smooth curve.

"What for?" asked Marco again.

I looked up at his small, freckled, five year old face and brushed away a mop of wavy, ginger hair from his eyes. Ginger hair had been a family heirloom in our family for many decades. From father to sons and daughters, we all shared our distinctive fiery hair and wore it with pride. Even I had long, flowing ginger hair that fell over my shoulders and face.

I always wore it in the same style everyday, taking back the front hairs and securing them with a colourful string behind my head.

"Erila!" he shouted. He hated it when I didn't pay attention and always got annoyed.

"Nothing," I grunted,"It isn't for anything."

I had been making a lot of somethings-for-nothings since mother died last winter.

I've tried to preoccupy myself as best I can.

"Oh." said Marco shortly. He always expects too much and then is disappointed when the truth comes trudging along." daddy wants you by the way."

"why?" I asked.

"To help with dinner" he explained.

Each night, a different Druid family cooks for the camp. Tonight, Apparently, It was our turn.

I sighed and put my knife safely in it's pouch on my belt and gave my 'something' to Marlo.

"Here, you can keep this one." I said. He took it from me, fingering the engravings in awe.

As i stood up, i stared down at the floor. the small pile of wood shavings were neatly littered in a pile just infront of me where i had been carving. I hated Rubbish, it's just so messy... cliché I know!

Staring down at it, fire burned in my eyes and the gates to my soul were unlocked. With a quick flash, i gave life to each and every pale grain.

"Butraflay." i whispered softly, nearly inaudible to the real world and the magic took place quite literally.

Each individual speck of shaven wood rose up into the cool air, taking shape, slowly and smoothly, of a butterfly. Beauty, grace and elegance, expressed with just one simple, beginers spell. It was just a shame that Uther couldn't notice it's potential one of my most wanted wishes.

I love the sweet delicacy of magic and I can't see how the despicable Pendragons see it as a deathly sin,It is one of the most pretty things i have ever experienced.

I let the sawdust butterfly follow me down the slope and into the heart of the camp. We had been living there for quite some time since we were banished from our villages some years ago by the so called 'almighty' king.

The little, magic creature fluttered round me like confetti as the trees whispered to the camp. The autumnal air was refreshing and all the leaves were turning scarlet as the weather grew colder.

"father." i greeted, picking up a potato from a large wooden bowl and starting to peel it. I felt a light pat on my shoulder as the butterfly landed there.

"Erila, how are you." asked father who was arranging logs for the fire. i loved my father. He was kind and honourable sorcerer who took pleasure in helping other. he didn't deserve this cruel discrimination the word (uther) was giving him.

" ok, i think." i replied. i was rarely sure of anything recently. life had been such a blur since we left the village but the sheer unfairness of it all was finally starting to kick in. i had inherited my mothers trait of optimism and always tried to stay in the light.

" you think ?" father said, concerned as usual.

" I can never be 100% fine, no one can, especially not when you've seen what i have..." i explained. i had seen some horrific things over the years, but overall, I think they've made me a stronger person.

"ah, i see," he said, then he noticed the wood dust creature on my shoulder," been carving?"

I needn't reply. I made the butterfly float off my shoulder and circle round my father. He laughed. I loved it when he laughed. His face lit up and you couldn't help it to smile back.

" You are a clever girl erila," hi face dropped," you don't deserve this."

He sighed heavily.

"none of us do father," i replied, grabbing his hand and holding it ,tight and supportive," but if this is how Uther wants to play the game, then we have to show we're stronger than he anticipates."

"I know, I know." he sighed again and then shook his head, shaking off his worries like he'd seen Marlo doing," anyway, this dinner won't cook itself."

he went back to arranging the flint then passed me the flint to light the fire. I took the stone, but made flames appear without it.

"Erila!" complained father.

"what!" I giggled back.

"Use the flint... life skills. When you are out of this camp, you can't use magic like that." He said, He had been going on about how I could escape from the camp and get a job in Camelot and how I should practise doing everything the hard way.

whoosh...

with a wave of his hand, put out the fire and pointed at the flint.

"If I get out of this camp!" I huffed.

"When!" he erged

"If"

"When"

"If"

"When, no returns!" he chuckled. Now come on, we need to cook this meat. I smiled at him, but when he turned round to reach for the pheasant I had shot earlier that day, I lit the fire with my eyes once more. When he turned round again, I pushed the butterfly off my shoulder, letting it hover over the new born heat.

" How can Uther neglect such beauty?" I thought, letting go of the creatures shape, allowing it to fall in to the flame.

 **I'M SORRY!**

 **I didn't mean it to be that long, hopefully the next chapter won't be.**

 **thanks for reading and hope you liked. please review and tell people about my account ==D**

 **Bye Xxx**


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